A Carter Christmas Carol
by corneroffandom
Summary: Late Christmas story. After a visit from a long forgotten friend, Ethan is taught some very valuable lessons.


Ethan Carter III is hard at work in the TNA offices when he hears a tentative knock at the door. Glowering at the offending noises, he barks, "What is it, then?"

Rockstar Spud peeks in, shivering because the offices are cold, just the way Ethan likes them. "Your cousin, Derrick, is here."

Ethan grunts, clearly unimpressed. "Let him in and then get to work."

Spud nods, his teeth chattering, and a moment later, Derrick Bateman walks in and makes himself comfortable in the chair on the other side of Ethan's desk. "Still like things cold, I see, cousin."

"Still not dead yet, I see," he responds coolly, barely looking up from the pile of forms he's filling out that will keep TNA running into 2016. "As you can hopefully see, I am very busy, so what do you want?"

Derrick smiles in that infuriating way of his, looking at what Ethan's doing. "I am hosting a Christmas party, cousin, and I would like you to come. It'd be good for you, I think."

Ethan's loud scribbling stops abruptly and he stares at his cousin in disbelief. Imagining himself at his cousin's overly cheerful house, surrounded by loud, annoying people, losing precious working hours... The laugh that comes from his lips is rough, belittling. "You have lost what remains of your sanity, Derrick. I will not be going to your ridiculous party. You may see yourself out."

Derrick doesn't seem that surprised as he gets up and prepares to take hi leave. "If you can change your mind, cousin, the invitation is open."

Ethan ignores him, returning to his work until Spud knocks again a few hours later, close to the end of the workday. "What?"

Spud gingerly peeks in and attempts to smile. "Sir, I- I was wondering as Christmas Day is approaching, may I spend the day with my family, sir? My wee little brother just got out of hospital, you see..."

Ethan stares at him. "Christmas Day off?" He scoffs and organizes the pile of forms on his desk. "Take these and mail them out," he orders as the hope drains from Spud's face. "And I want you back in here first thing in the morning."

Spud swallows hard and crosses the room, collecting the forms. "Very well, sir," he says weakly. "See you in the morning."

Ethan huffs and ignores him, returning to the work. It's unending but he finally finishes it and locks the door as Spud leaves, trudging down the street to where the parking lot for the average employees is. He sneers and turns the other way, heading to the warm, dry packing garage and finding his car waiting for him in the CEO parking spot, sinking down in the soft leather seats and peeling out of there.

His home is quiet, simple. He doesn't care about it, so it's not as flashy as it could be. Handles his needs and that's all that matters. After a quick, tasteless meal, he thumbs through the day's newspaper before giving up and changing into his sleepwear and burying himself in the sheets. Sleep comes easily, as it always does when he knows that the work is handled, and everything is as perfect as it can be considering the mess his aunt had left him. He yawns and buries his face in his pillow, already lost to the world.

It doesn't last long, however, and he quickly finds himself sitting up in bed, wide awake and gaping at the darkness surrounding him... except it's not as dark as it should be. Some odd sort of grey mist hanging down over him leaves him swallowing hard, staring around in an attempt to figure out what he's seeing. "Is someone there? Show yourself or I'll call the police-"

A low, rumbly sort of laugh interrupts him mid-rant and he stops short, thinking that it sounds familiar but unable to place it easily. Finally he hears steps. Loud, uncoordinated, horrible sounding steps and the grey misty light grows stronger, adding to his fear. Before he can say or do anything else, however, a shape appears in the room, grows stronger, brighter. Ethan swallows and watches as the hallucination approaches. As it nears, he can't help but think the facial features are familiar, somehow. Finally, noisily, the appirition stops before him. "Hello, Ethan. It's been a long time."

It all comes back to him. His old friend, Johnny Curtis. Partners once upon a time a long time ago, before both had gone their separate ways. Time had not been as gracious with Johnny as it had been with Ethan. In fact he had heard that Johnny had met an unfortunate end not that long ago, but he hadn't bothered to follow up, too lost in keeping TNA afloat to bother with such trivial matters. Now, eye to eye with what looks like the ghost of his old friend, he finds he regrets not looking into things more. "What happened to you?"

Johnny doesn't offer an explanation immediately, staring at his former partner, pale and creepy, and all around unresponsive. "I lived a cliched life," he finally speaks, his voice somehow echoing and sending shivers down Ethan's spine. "I pushed people away, I hurt so many. I cared about no one else but myself, and so this is my fate."

He pulls at his shirt and Ethan then notices that he's standing oddly, as if all of his weight is leaning towards the left. Upon a closer glance, Ethan realizes that something round and heavy is on his shoulder, clearly making each step taken difficult. Johnny sighs upon seeing him staring and explains, "This chip on my shoulder is from all of the years I spent my life selfishly and full of anger. I deserve this pain, I deserve this loneliness. But you, my friend, can change your life. You don't have to suffer along with me."

Ethan sneers, considering his life, and how he likes it the way it is. "Why would I want to do that? I wouldn't suffer your fate. I'll save my family's company and everything will be perfect. You'll see."

Johnny shakes his head slowly, a sympathetic gleam in his eyes. "Well, Ethan, I will leave you with this warning: Over the next three nights, you will be visited by three spirits. I wish you well." It's all he says before disappearing as abruptly as he'd arrived.

Ethan stares into the darkness for a few moments, trying to digest what he'd just seen, before waving it off as something meaningless- nightmares fueled by eating too close to bedtime, perhaps- and falling asleep quickly.

He sleeps through the night and returns to work bright and early the next morning, appeased somewhat at seeing Spud hard at work already. The day is uneventful and he returns home that night, eating yet another simple meal before sinking into bed. He's only asleep for a short time before he senses something and sits up, scrubbing at his face and looking around. "Now what?"

The spirit that appears this time has thick, long brown hair, his mustache overwhelming his face, and Ethan blinks as he looks up at him, confused. "I am the Spirit of Christmas Past," he says simply, his voice patient and calm. "You are to come with me now. Take my hand."

"Why would I _do_ that?" Ethan demands, shying away from him. "Leave me alone, I'm not going anywhere with you- do you think I'm dumb enough to be a willing hostage?" But then the spirit grips his hand and the next thing Ethan knows is he's outside, ghosting through the foggy streets of Nashville, holding his breath as the spirit drags him along. "Where are we going?! What is happening?!" he cries, hoping that someone in the houses they're flying over will hear- something, anything to rescue him from this crazy person. "Please..."

"No one is going to hear you," the spirit says. "We both are invisible to everything around us." He ignores Ethan's sputtering response, landing smoothly and turning towards a building in front of them. Ethan glares at him for dismissing him before turning to look as well. His jaw drops when he realizes. "Recognize this?"

Of course he recognizes it. It's his old school, his aunt meeting him at the sidewalk and turning to walk him home, one of those rare days where she had time and wanted to spend it with him. He closes his eyes and swallows, somehow not surprised to open his eyes once more and find himself older, training to learn wrestling in some dumpy looking indy fed so he could be the champion his family expected him to be. The next time the scene before them changes, his breath seizes in his chest and he can barely take in what's before them. "Maxine," he mumbles, watching as his girlfriend, voice echoing and haunting him even after all of these years, explains that his growing bitterness towards the business is killing her enjoyment of it all, and taking her love for him with it. As he watches, she walks away without a look back and he clenches his hands into fists, turning away from the visions. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asks, ignoring the painful tears welling up in his eyes as he approaches the spirit with dangerous intent.

Before he can touch him, however, he finds himself back in his bed. Wiping furiously at his eyes, he tries to convince himself that it's just another bad dream, rolling over and losing himself in the darkness his sheets provide him.

Another day at work passes by, Spud careful not to get in his way too much, perhaps seeing by his expression that now is not the time to get on Ethan's bad side- not that it ever is, but today worse than most. After shops close and it's time to go home, Ethan is relieved to do just that, sinking into his chair and eating his typical meal before slumping into bed. He dreads to see what kind of nightmare will come his way this evening, closing his eyes and trying to breathe. "Perhaps none," he murmurs. "Perhaps I will sleep peacefully."

Of course, this doesn't happen as he wakes up to another gleaming light and stares, perplexed, at the tall spirit standing before him, hair drifting down past his shoulders. "So which are you?" he asks, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth and making his words sound jumbled.

"Spirit of Christmas Present," the man says in a deep, thick accent. "Come." He barely touches Ethan's face before they reappear in a different part of Nashville, downtown near the cheap apartments that he's looked upon with derision many times over his lifetime.

"What are we doing here?" Ethan asks quietly, looking up at the building in confusion. "Who could possibly live in these-?" He falls quiet as, after another touch of the spirit's hand, they find themselves inside, staring at the bustling family inside serving up a modest meal of a small turkey and bowls of potatoes, applesauce and some sort of pudding. It only takes him a moment, then, to realize that Spud is approaching the table, guiding a small, sickly looking boy towards the nearest chair. "Who's that?" he whispers.

"Timmy Curtin," the spirit says simply, a compassionate twist to his lips. "Spud's little brother, who has been in and out of the hospital his entire life. Which is why Spud is so determined to keep his job, to help his parents pay for Timmy's health care. There is rarely enough left to keep food on the table, but they make do, with barely a complaint between any of them."

Ethan ponders this, unable to see how four people could make do with such a meager amount of food. He watches quietly as Spud lifts Timmy up onto his seat and starts to serve him.

"Would you like some more turkey, Timmy?" he asks his brother.

Timmy's eyes are wide blue, very similar to Spud's, and Ethan's thrown by the pure worship in his gaze as he looks up at Spud. "No, Jamie, you need some, too," he says, voice soft and sweet.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Spud says cheerfully, but takes an extra strip of meat to keep his brother smiling. "Happy now?" he asks, ruffling Timmy's hair as he nods. "Good." He smiles at his brother as he sits down next to him.

Ethan stands there with the spirit next to him, watching as the family says grace, eating their meal cheerfully. There's no lack of conversation around the table and he swallows, watching this poor family, surrounded by the constant reminder of the fraility of life and many other burdens but not letting it ruin their holiday. He witnesses as they move onto dessert, afterwards, all seeming entirely impressed by what seems so miniscule to Ethan. He shakes his head in awe, finding it hard to breathe when Timmy exclaims, "God bless us everyone!" in response to Spud's wish for them all to have a merry, blessed Christmas.

Ethan's barely taken all of this in when Spirit of Christmas Present's hand rests on his shoulder and he takes them to yet another place, Ethan's complaints about not wanting to leave the Curtin's yet fading into nothingness as he realizes they're outside of his cousin's house. Derrick's party is currently going on, bright, and loud, and more festive than Ethan's seen in years. He watches the people dancing and socializing and, strangely enough, feels the urge to be in there with them, flirting and having fun, not worrying about TNA's future, about finances, about... so many different things. "I wish I could stay here forever," he murmurs, watching as Derrick dances with one young woman after another, his laugh easy.

Alas, Ethan's dream doesn't come true and he wakes up once more in his bed, blinking blearily. Work this day is weird, his thoughts muddled as he tries to figure out what spirit will be paying him a visit this evening. Seeing Spud is even stranger, Timmy's voice echoing around in Ethan's memories whenever he looks into his worker's eyes. "Wha- what did you say?" he asks when Spud stares at him worriedly.

"I- are you alright, sir? You... aren't acting like yourself."

Ethan hesitates, considering asking about Spud's brother, but stops himself just before the words slip past his lips. "I'm fine," he says. "Just didn't sleep well. Get back to work, Spud."

"Oh. Of course, sir." Spud leaves, closing the door quietly behind him, and Ethan grimaces, rubbing his eyes and looking up at the ceiling before giving himself a rough shake and turning back to his own work.

The day goes by slowly. Ethan can barely stand it, trapped with his own thoughts and listening to the clock ticking again and again and again. He tries to work but he can barely focus and, by the time the day's done, he's barely finished anything. Pushing all of the paperwork aside, he stands and grabs his coat. Spud is still at his desk as he storms past but the young man doesn't have time to say or do anything before Ethan is breezing out of the building, determined to go home. Finish the three nights of spiritual visits so he could return to his life, to his work.

He picks at his meal until it turns cold and wholly unappetizing, pushing it away as well before going to bed. He thinks perhaps he's so worked up that sleep will not come but sure enough, his head has barely touched the pillow before he's out. It feels like it takes forever and only a few moments before he reawakens to find a spirit before him. This spirit is grim, foreboding, and he can't see its face under the hood it's wearing. He swallows and stares at it, suddenly regretting wanting this so badly. But it's too late, he can't stop it- its cold hand grips his wrist and he feels himself being transported once more elsewhere.

Unlike before, what he witnesses makes no sense. A decripit building, no way to determine what once stood there. Men in suits discussing what is to be done with lingering debt, a few shifty characters inside of a pawn shop, and a few gossiping people who almost look _relieved_ as they pour over a website for further news. Ethan itches to know what's going on, who has died. He turns to his silent guide and pleads, "Who's dead? What's going on? Why are those people happy?"

The faceless creature turns once more to him and Ethan gasps as he finds himself on uneven ground, his balance failing him and sending him to his knees. He squeaks and struggles back upright when he realizes he's at a graveyard, stones with names and dates on them scattered here and there around them. He stares on in horror. "What is this? Why have you brought me here?"

The spirit says nothing, but points an arm out towards a gravestone. It is deserted, grass and weeds growing around and over it, and all in all it's a very sad sight. Shivers creeping down his spine, Ethan steps forward and reads it. Freezes, pales, then reads it again. His name is chiseled into the stone, no doubt about it being his. He shakes his head desperately and looks up. "No, no, this is impossible. It can't be. I'm not dead! I'm right here!" Memories of everything he's seen the last few nights pour back, Spud's family, poor little Timmy, his cousin's party, how much fun the people were having, how badly he wanted to stay. He deposits himself at the spirit's feet and clings to his black robes. "Please," he pleads. "Please don't do this- reverse my fate! I mustn't die like this, alone and bitter! I will be better, I will value Christmas and every holiday for what it deserves to be- a time for family, not about financial riches. I will care for my fellow men, I will make things right with my family!"

Everything goes dark. The spirit disappears. Ethan wakes up to find himself back in bed, shaking but alive. The wisps of memory still with him, but slowly disappearing into nothing as he stares at the sun shining in through his curtains. It is morning. He scrambles, runs to the windows and forces them open, staring down at the neighborhood children wander around and play. "Excuse me," he calls down. "What day is it?"

One child stops his play and looks up at him, all wide eyes and curious smile. "It's Christmas morning, of course, sir!"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath, his heart swelling with relief. "Thank you, thank you!" he calls down, beaming. Grabbing the first decent suit in his closet, he quickly changes and runs down. The child is still there, kicking a soccerball around, and Ethan hesitates. "Boy, go to the nearest grocery store and buy a holiday meal with all of the fixings, have it delivered to this address." He scribbles Spud's family's address on a sheet of paper before stuffing it and a hundred dollar bill into the boy's palm. "Get yourself something for your trouble, yeah?"

The kid stares at the money before looking back up at him. "Thank you sir," he exclaims before running off.

Ethan gnaws at his lip, wondering for a moment if the kid will just take the money and run, but ultimately decides to trust in his gut impulse. For a moment, he _almost_ considers getting his driver to come and pick him up, but waves the idea off. Instead, he walks through the brisk Nashville streets, humming to himself as he approaches the part of town the Curtins live at. He pauses outside of a store and ducks inside long enough to make a couple of purchaces. On his way out of the store, he stops by a man dressed as Santa collecting for a charity and tosses in another hundred dollar bill, returning his Merry Christmas even more cheerfully.

The sun is delightful on his face as he walks the rest of the distance to the house, knocking on the door and stepping aside as he waits. When Spud answers, Ethan laughs softly at the startled look on his face. "Oh, sir, um, I'm aware I'm supposed to be at work," he says, "it's just my brother is opening his gifts- I apologize for being tardy-"

Ethan's hand on his shoulder stops his rambling and he swallows hard, looking up at him. "It's fine, Spud. I'm giving you the rest of today and tomorrow off." He gives Spud a moment to digest this before tilting his head. "May I come in? I'd like to meet your brother."

"Uhh- yes, yes, of course," Spud squeaks, opening the door wider and letting Ethan in. He watches, dumbfounded, as his boss enters the house jovially and greets his parents before kneeling down in front of Timmy.

"Hello," he greets the boy.

"Hullo," Timmy says, eyes wide and uncertain as he peeks over at his brother. "You know Jamie?"

"Yes," Ethan says with a small smile. "We work together. He has talked about his brave little brother a few times and I wanted to meet you, bring you something for Christmas." Ethan's not sure who looks more startled in that moment, Timmy or Spud, but it doesn't matter.

Timmy's pleased gasp when he unwraps the gift to find a panda bear almost as large as he is waiting for him is enough to ease Spud's anxiety and he steps forward. "Sir, thank you, I don't know-"

"No," Ethan interrupts him with a vague, but kind, smile. "I am the one who didn't know a lot of things, Spud. Things are going to be different now." He reaches out and grips Spud's shoulder, kneading the tense muscles that he finds there for a moment. "Every year, my cousin has a large Christmas party. What do you say after you conclude all of your family duties today, you come with me? Everyone who's anyone wil be there."

Spud flounders. Gulps. "I won't have anything proper to wear, sir," he protests weakly.

Ethan waves his hand dismissively. "Let me worry about that. Will you come?" 

"I..." Spud nods, his eyes fixed on Ethan's joyful, relaxed face. He's not sure what's happened from the last time he's seen his boss, but he finds he likes it. "Of course, sir."

"Great! I will see you then," he says happily, leaning down once more to ruffle Timmy's hair. "Merry Christmas to all of you." As he walks down the street, the boy from his neighborhood is approaching with the bags full of the still hot meal and Ethan's smile grows. _Once normal working hours resume,_ he thinks, _I may have difficulty not falling back into the same traps, but..._ Turning slowly to watch as Mrs. Curtin answers the door and cries happily over the meal that will now make this holiday a much better one for her family, Ethan's eyes soften. _I will never forget this day. What it feels like to be... honestly... doing good for people. And I won't stop here. I will continue._

Turning, he heads back home to prepare for his cousin's party.


End file.
